Robin attended the next round of the joust, sitting above Sansa and Lord Eddard, who looked around with confusion. "Where's Arya?" he asked Sansa.

"At her dancing lessons," Sansa said.

A smile suddenly spread across her face as a man rode onto the pitch to join Ser Gregor, who's horse pawed at the dirt. "The Knight of the Flowers," Sansa grinned.

Robin cursed to himself and hoped that Sansa would not notice him. If he were not at Loras Tyrell's side, too many questions would arise.

Loras smiled as he rode forward, a red rose in his hand. He held it out to Sansa, who blushed when she took it. "Thank you, Ser Loras."

His smile broadened, but Robin noticed he did not meet Sansa's gaze. Instead, his eyes drifted upward to a young man, who raised an eyebrow and smiled in return.

Loras turned, riding to the end of the pitch. Sansa took her father's arm tightly. "Don't let Ser Gregor hurt him," she begged.

"Hey," Eddard said softly.

She shook her head fiercely, looking down at her feet. "I can't watch."

Two men began speaking near Robin, but he ignored them, staring out at the pitch, where Ser Gregor's horse bucked and neighed softly, kicking up clouds of dirt. Loras was smiling faintly.

"He's going to die," Sansa stated.

"Ser Loras rides well," Eddard said.

A trumpet blew and the men rode at each other. The crowd broke out into cheers as Ser Gregor was thrown from his horse, crashing into a fence. Loras grinned, waving to the people.

Ser Gregor got to his feet, anger clear in his expression. "Sword!" he roared, and a squire quickly hurried out to hand him the weapon.

His horse stumbled to its feet. Robin's eyes went wide with horror as Gregor's sword cleaved through the animal's neck, it's head falling to the dirt. The people screamed.

He advanced at Loras, who's blue eyes went wide. He managed to bring his shield up just in time to block Gregor's swing, though he was knocked from the back of his horse.

Loras rolled onto his back, hiding beneath his shield, which Robin knew would be little help against his giant competitor.

"Leave him be!" a voice snapped, and Robin turned to see another large figure, his face half-covered by a scar, making his way onto the pitch.

He drew his sword, blocking Gregor's next swing. For a few moments they grappled as Loras crawled back, terrified. The sound of steel against steel rang in Robin's ears. "Stop this madness in the name of your king!" King Robert shouted.

In an instant the new man dropped into a kneel, his head lowered just enough to avoid a wide swing from Gregor, who threw his sword to the dirt. A few men tried to block Gregor as he walked off the pitch, but Robert's words stopped them. "Let him go!"

Loras got to his feet slowly, a smile starting to form on his face. "I owe you my life, Ser," he said to the man.

"I'm no ser," the man answered.

Loras didn't seem to care about that as he took the man's arm, raising it high in the air. He grinned as the people began to cheer and clap, Robin laughing despite himself. The man bowed his head awkwardly.

When the events of the day ended, Robin made way back into the streets of Flea Bottom. He spotted a small shop as he passed, the heavy smell of roasting meat surrounding it. A few of his children were gathered at the door, holding small birds by their broken necks. Waiting for bowls of brown. Robin never dared to eat the stuff. Meat of questionable origin was often included, and while it was a hearty meal, he feared what it could contain.

He offered the children a smile and waved before he continued deeper into the city, where small houses lined the streets, teetering so far forward that they nearly touched. Children ran about, their mother's chattering. A few men sat in a circle, drinking from a skin and playing some sort of a game with a sharp blade.

A young girl, scarcely older than Robin, stood in front of a brothel, a sheepish smile on her face as she took the hand of a man.

There was a sudden shout from the circle of men, and Robin saw blood as one of them raised his hand, his finger sliced down the side. They cheered and laughed, pulling his arm down and stuffing a large cup of ale into his hand.

Robin watched them drink heavily before they started the game again. He wondered how they could find the danger to be fun.

"Robin."

He turned to see Poppy, a surprising thing since she hardly ventured into the busier parts of Flea Bottom. He offered a smile. "Poppy. How are you?"

"I'm well," she said. "But we think Rodrik's come down with redspots."

"Redspots," Robin muttered to himself, his tone doing little to hide his annoyance. "Do we have money for a salve?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Beth handles our money."

"Go talk to Beth, then. If we have enough, send her to one of the orphanages to ask for a salve. If we don't- -" Robin let out a short sigh. "Rodrik'll have to wait for it to go on its own."

Poppy nodded. "Where have you been?"

"Been sneaking into the tourney. Watching the joust."

"That's a stupid idea."

Robin chuckled despite himself. "You're right," he admitted. "I must be the stupidest orphan in the world."

"I don't mean that you're stupid," Poppy said. "You just do stupid things."

He shrugged faintly. "Go on, Poppy. Rodrik is going to need all the care he can get."

"I've never been one for care," Poppy said.

"You care for me."

"You're different."

A smile played at his lips. "Well," he said. "Spare some care for Rodrik. If he does have redspots, he'll need something to keep his mind off of it."

Poppy nodded a bit. "All right."

Robin watched her go, smiling.